I would like to welcome Robert Downs to The Avid Reader today. Thanks for stopping by Robert Downs. Please be sure and check out Robert Downs's novel Falling Immortality: Casey Holden, Private Investigator. I have the first chapter of Falling Immortality: Casey Holden, Private Investigator for you to read. Don't forget to enter the giveaway before you leave.
Book Title: Falling Immortality
Author: Robert Downs
Series Title: Casey Holden, Private Investigator
Published: August 2011
Publisher: Rainbow Books, Inc.
Genre: FICTION / Mystery & Detective / Hard-
Boiled
Pages: 225
PURCHASE
Falling Immortality
Amazon
SYNOPSIS
Falling Immortality
Debut, hard-boiled mystery fiction for men. Stephen King’s
son describes a fitting genre as MANfiction (the opposite of
Chick lit). Casey Holden, former cop, current PI in Virginia
Beach, VA, screens his clients the way he screens his women,
based on whichever drop-dead gorgeous woman happens to
waltz through his door first and manages to hold his attention.
So when Felicity Farren, widow-at-large, struts into his office
asking him to solve the two-year-old murder of her husband
Artis, she intrigues him. When Casey starts digging, he learns
the murder isn’t what it seems to be and he doesn’t have a
big enough shovel to unearth the truth. And to top it all off,
his former rival at the police department, Greg Gilman, is
determined to disrupt his investigation. Casey's challenge is
to learn what really happened to Artis, and why Gilman can’t
seem to remove his head from his butt. And he’ll need all of
his wits to complete the task.
FIRST CHAPTER
Falling Immortality
“My husband died,” she said.
She wiped her eyes, but she didn’t shed a tear.
I was accustomed to serious — I’m a former cop — and I couldn’t
give it up. “I’m sorry for your loss,” I told her. It seemed like the
appropriate thing to say. There’s something to be said for effort.
“I’d like to hire you.”
I needed more to go on. “What’s your husband’s name?”
She paused as if she might be trying to remember. “Artis, Artis
Farren. I’m Felicity, his wife. I hear you’re the best, Mr. Holden.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I have an inquisitive mind.”
“It goes with the territory, doesn’t it?” Felicity whipped out a
cigarette, and before she even asked if it was okay with me — it
wasn’t — she lit it up.
“Indeed it does go with the territory.” I wanted to tell her
she could put her cigarette out on her butt. I thought better of it,
opened a desk drawer where I kept an ashtray for idiots who hadn’t
kicked the weed and placed the ashtray before her on my desk. I’d
learned how to handle compromise in my relationships with women
— I kept my mouth shut and looked cute. I could even do both at
the same time. But that’s beside the point.
Felicity had blown into my office in a blue skirt two inches too
short. Her blonde hair and makeup appeared to be sculpted. With
hardly a glance from her crystal blue eyes, she sat down in one of my
two guest chairs, while I remained behind my mahogany desk ready
for action. I’d even leaned back in my desk chair to send a message of
confidence and competence.
“I can’t pay you very much,” she now said.
Money wasn’t an issue for me. I had my parents’ trust fund to
keep me afloat — the one thing they hadn’t done when their fancy
yacht went down in a storm off the Mexican coast. The PI business
didn’t pay all that well, and neither did the cop business, but I loved
the work. I cleared my throat and told her, “If I solve it, we’ll talk
about my fee. I have reasonable rates.”
“Like Motel 6?”
“Exactly, only I’m better looking.” I flashed her one of my killer
smiles — it didn’t work — so I quickly looked peeved instead.
“Indeed you are — better looking.”
I waited for her to continue. The only thing she did was continue
to spew sooty fumes in my face. Finally I gave in and asked, “Why me?”
Felicity took a long drag on her cigarette. “The cops haven’t
been much help. It’s been two years now, but they’ve done nothing
to solve it.”
“I’m sure they have,” I said. Even though I’m an ex-cop, I still
believe cops have good methods; I’m just not sure I could deal with
them on a regular basis. So I don’t. Now I just harass them from time
to time — it’s more fun that way. Everyone needs their perks, and
that’s one of mine. Lots of perks come with being a PI. I set my own
hours, I charge an hourly rate, I take vacations on a bimonthly basis,
and I consider a lot of beautiful women. I even receive a few tempting
offers, but so far I’ve been a good boy. That could change any time
now. After all, trouble could come my way almost any day. That’s how
life had been with my parents.
First, it had been a near miss in their private jet when the gear
wouldn’t lower, but in that case the pilot had saved the day with an ace
high, full stall belly landing. Then it had been a car off a narrow road in
the Swiss Alps, which carried them into a fifty foot deep ravine. Just one
thing after another — they’d walked away laughing . . . I tried not to think
about those fantastic people who’d been my parents . . . It was hard to
do . . . But back to Felicity and her cigarette.
I had a cup of cold coffee on my side of the desk and, despite the
ashtray, a pile of messy ashes. I didn’t like the thought of my mahogany
desk (the one piece of really nice furniture I had in my office) turning
to charcoal. Nevertheless, I decided to move ahead. “Why don’t you
tell me what happened?”
“I don’t know much to tell you . . . ”
The shaking of her head gave her away: she knew more than
what she was telling me which, so far, hadn’t been much. “Why don’t
you let me decide that? Tell me what you do know.” I know how to
listen or at least make it appear I listen.
“I’m not really sure where to begin.”
“The beginning’s always a good place,” I said.
“Are you a smart-ass for a living?” Her crystal blue eyes snapped
shut, then opened, as if this was about to be the end of a beautiful
friendship.
“No, it’s just a side business,” I said. “I gotta keep up the good
humor. You know?” Well, I hoped she did.
She opened her mouth, and then she closed it again.
I liked it when I wrapped a woman’s tongue around her head
three times. It was the perfect payback for all the guys out there who
have been given the shaft by a smart woman.
Women are smarter than men, especially when it comes to
relationships, and ever since I learned this, I’d tried to level the playing
field. I’m just one man, and I’ve been known to fall flat on my face a
time or two, but I keep trying to even the score. One day maybe I will.
Finally she ended the suspense and said, “It was a random
shooting. My husband was at the bar, his regular nightspot. A man
just walked in, pulled out a gun like it was an extension of his arm,
shot my husband, turned around and left. That was it.”
“So you don’t know the man’s name?”
Felicity shook her head. “He wasn’t a regular. In fact, no one
had seen him there before, and no one has seen him since.”
I leaned forward, eager to hear more. “So you don’t know
anything about the man?”
“He was a ghost, detective.”
“I’m not a detective, ma’am. I’m a PI.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I lied. “It happens all the time.” Lies were okay on
occasion, especially to women who were all shook up. And Felicity still
appeared to be pretty shaken; the chain smoking was a dead giveaway.
She was on her third cigarette — and I wasn’t counting.
I thought about the shooting and was about to utter a few words
of encouragement, despite the fact that looks could be deceiving,
and normally simple crimes were never simple, when Felicity Farren
stood up and darted out the door, cigarettes and all.
I watched her go, and I had watched her come — I couldn’t
decide which was more entertaining. If she didn’t smoke like a chimney,
lie through her teeth and have me beaten in the age department by
at least fifteen years, I might have been more interested in her
horizontal activities.
Heaving a sigh of resignation, I pushed myself from my desk
chair and cleaned up the mess on my desk. With a sheet of paper I
scooted the remaining ashes from my desk into the wastepaper basket
and poured myself a fresh cup of coffee.
Back at my desk and sipping my coffee, I gave the unlucky Artis
Farren some thought. It sounded like a case of being in the wrong
place at the wrong time. That had happened to me on several occasions,
but I’d never been caught with my pants down. I didn’t sleep with
married women.
Two years was a long time to pick up on a case, but I’d known
cases to play dead longer only to come roaring back to life. Normally
when cases remain unsolved it is for one of two reasons: the murderer
was really good, or it wasn’t supposed to be solved. Since the murderer
whacked poor Artis in an open bar with plenty of witnesses, I figured
this was one I wasn’t supposed to solve.
Though I didn’t have a client in gone-with-the-wind Felicity,
suddenly it made no-never-mind. I wanted to jump right in. Tell me
no, and I’ll tell you yes!
I picked up my cell phone — I had three new messages; I erased
them all. I wanted a clean slate ahead. Then I punched in the number
of my best friend, Ian Jackard.
“Not you . . . again,” Ian answered in his usual pessimistic fashion.
Ever the eternal optimist, I said, “How did you know it was me?”
“Caller ID,” he said. “You might want to try it sometime, Casey. Plus,
you’re too predictable. What case are you working on now?”
“How do you know I’m working on a case?”
“Because you don’t call me when you’re on vacation.”
It was true; I didn’t. When I took time off I kept work as far away
as possible. I’m good at keeping my problems at bay, and they’re still
there when I come back. I liked to deal with problems, and I liked it
even better when I could solve them. Some problems were easier than
others, but not all problems were created equal. I had called Ian to find
out just how tough my new problem was. None of my problems ever
turned out to be small. “I need a favor,” I said.
“You always need a favor.”
“You’re not going to turn into a woman on me, are you?” I said.
“I can hang up the phone.”
“You can, but then you’re going to miss out on the goods,” I
said. It was a bluff, but I had nothing to lose.
Ian took the bait. “Nothing you ever have for me is good. It
requires work.”
“Work is good for you. It helps soothe the soul.” I, on the other
hand, avoided work as much as possible.
“I’m in therapy because of you.”
“No, you’re in therapy because of your ex-wife.” Ian’s ex-wife was
ruthless — she beat her hubby three times that I’m aware of. The
relationship lasted a whopping ten months, and now ten years later
he is still in therapy. Go figure.
“You don’t look anything like my ex-wife,” he said.
“I know. I look better.”
Ian laughed.
It was the first time I’d heard him laugh in days, but I’d been on
vacation, so I might have missed one or two of them.
“So what can I do for you?” he said. He didn’t beat around the
bush.
“Do you know anything about Artis Farren?”
“I don’t know,” Ian said. “Can I get back to you?”
“Sure. You know the number?”
“Your number hasn’t changed in four years.”
That’s true. It hadn’t. I like to keep things simple.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Robert aspired to be a writer before he realized how difficult
the writing process was. Fortunately, he’d already fallen in
love with the craft, otherwise Casey might never have seen
print. Originally from West Virginia, Robert has lived in
Virginia, Massachusetts, and now resides in New Mexico.
AUTHOR LINKS
Website
Facebook
Goodreads
GIVEAWAY
The giveaway will be for one ebook (either Kindle, ePub, or PDF), US and International
and one signed trade paperback copy US only.
There will be two lucky winners.
The giveaway will end on Nov. 15.
I will notify the winners via email.
Please leave your email in rafflecopter and not in comments.
I will forward the winners email to the author.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Be sure and check out all the other stops on the tour.
TOUR SCHEDULE
Nov. 1 - Martha -
(review, interview, and guest post)
Nov. 2 - Flora -
(Excerpt)
Nov. 3 - Pragya @ Reviewing Shelf -
(Review/Ebook Giveaway)
Nov. 4 - Judith Leger -
(Review/Guest Post/Excerpt/ Ebook Giveaways)
Nov. 5 - Faye -
(Guest Post and Giveaway)
Nov. 6 - Kristine - Writing with Kristine Cayne -
(Guest Post/Review/Giveaway)
Nov. 7 - Trish
(guest post/excerpt/giveaway)
Nov. 8 - Nancy - The Avid Reader
(excerpt/giveaway)
Nov. 9 - Midu -
Book Promo
Nov. 10 - Jamie Leigh Haden -
(Interview/Excerpt/ Ebook Giveaways)
